my crippling sense of inadequacy as a physician
I don’t know why I’m writing this, but I’m sitting here and I don’t know how else to process my thoughts.
It’s been a while since I posted anything on this website. Since the last time I did, my life changed dramatically. I graduated medical school and moved away from the one place in the world that I truly loved and I was truly happy. Galway was the most beautiful place and I loved every single day there. It was my “happy place”; my home.
More than once a day for the last 18 months, I have closed my eyes and walked down my street. I have traced every single cobblestone on Shop Street; I’ve recalled the smell - the feel of the sweet, damp Irish air. I’ve felt the rain on my face, in my hair, matting my curls to my neck, and I’ve pretended to visit the farmers market and jokingly harassed Ailbhe for not having any gooseberries that week. I can’t talk about any of this with my parents anymore or my friends; they’re all sick and tired of hearing about it.
But being homesick isn’t the worst of it. I got through the bulk of intern year with a relative cornucopia of confidence. People kept telling me how great I was, especially in the beginning. Relative to the rest of my class, I looked good. People thought I was smart and amazing for an intern. People always thought I would be the next chief resident. I wanted to be the best resident this programme had ever seen. I wanted to be the faculty favourite. And I think maybe for a moment, I was.
But it was only for a moment.
The tail end of my intern year was marked by the spurious, disjointed beginning and swift end of my first ever adult relationship. The relationship was tumultuous and riddled with unnecessary drama and distraction. I’d never allowed myself to become involved with anyone, and now I realise that was for good reason. During that time, I think everyone started to notice how I had “lost” my focus; One of the third year residents pulled me aside after a disastrous weekend on hospital service and basically told me that my performance was slipping and that maybe I peaked too soon and now everyone else was catching up to me. It made me feel like shit. That horrible weekend and that little chat afterward was really when the self doubt began to settle.
One day I was in clinic on administrative duty, when a patient of mine had come to see the clinic counsellor. After her appointment, she was walking around the clinic. The staff told me to stay out of sight, as she wanted to speak with me. Now let me tell you, this lady is insane and just a total mess of a human being. At that time, she was constantly badgering my to prescribe her “nerve pills”, and I kept saying no. That day, I wasn’t in the mood to be hunted down and have a conversation with her about her shitty life and the topic of Ativan. Dumbly, I had left the conference room, where the staff told me to hide until she left the building in order to go to the bathroom. When I got out, I heard her walking around the clinic looking for me. I still don’t know why she was allowed to do that... but anyhow, I felt like a hunted animal and so I did what any hunted animal does: I panicked and ended up diving under a table to hide. In hindsight, I wish I could just take a time machine and take that back. One of my faculty members found me and was so incredibly angry with me. He brought me into his office and reamed me out for like 30 minutes. Told me how incredibly juvenile I am. What an embarrassment I am. How patients could have seen me do that. How I acted like a child. Then I got an academic warning from my programme director. From then on the faculty started to watch me like a hawk; I felt they catalogued every single time I laughed too loud or did anything remotely out of line.
That brings me to the first month of my second year of residency when I started on night float. It was my first time on my own and I just spent the whole month feeling like shit. The bulk of these past few months haven’t been much better. This month on night float has been hard as well. I make little omissions or oversights and I doubt myself. I mull over every single thing I do wrong that my senior points out and agonise over it. I keep thinking everyone thinks I’m just this dumb joke. I’m afraid they just think of me as lost opportunity; someone who used to be good.
I recently had my advisor meeting with my programme director. He gave me menial scores across the board for everything: my clinical knowledge, my professionalism, practice management... I asked him why and where I could specifically improve; he told me nothing, other than to modulate my personality - that I’m too bubbly and energetic. It doesn’t help that I look like I’m 14 and wear little girl’s size clothing. In so few words, he told me that they, the faculty, find my vivaciousness unnerving. He reamed me for my in training exam score, which was passing but not amazing. I think the worst of it was that he said in so little words that they regretted having me in their programme. Then I started crying in his office because I feel so depressed and he just stared at my awkwardly until I finished. It was so horrible.
To top it all off, I had to deal with an awkward situation with a MARRIED male co worker who was sending me inappropriate texts and calling me continuously...
I feel like a failure as a physician when I compare myself to my peers. I don’t feel like I know anything anymore. I feel so incredibly inadequate every single day and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to wallow, but I just feel like I’m stuck and I feel so depressed. I used to love writing and now I can’t even stomach the thought of it. Writing reminds me of when I was happy when I was back in Ireland. I hate living in rural Kentucky. I feel like I’m wasting my life here in this rural town. I have no one here except for my elderly cat. I miss my home, I miss my mom and dad, I miss being smart and being accepted for who I am. I’ve given up on my dream of being the best; of being chief. I’ll let one of the other residents do it. I feel like no one here appreciates my zany, bubbly, happy personality. They say I don’t act like a doctor and that no one will ever take me seriously. I don’t know how else to be. My patients appreciate someone who is happy. I just don’t know anymore.
I doubt anyone will read this. I’m just throwing it out into the world. I thought that being a doctor would solve all my self esteem issues. I thought that having those magical 2 letters, MD, would be it, but I think the truth is that I have never felt smaller and more inadequate. I worry that I am not taking care of my patients well. When they don’t get what they want and get mad at me, take it personally. I don’t know guys, I miss my life, I miss Ireland, I miss my friends, I miss being me...
second year of residency, inadequacy
